


Taken Apart

by kiyala



Series: Deadweight [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Handcuffs, M/M, Organized Crime, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not until Enjolras spends an entire week alone with him that he discovers Grantaire has a tendency to fidget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken Apart

"I'm taking Grantaire with me," Enjolras says with an air of finality and the entire room goes silent.

Grantaire, who had been leaning on the back two legs of his chair, comes down with a heavy thud, his fingers tightening around the neck of his bottle just a fraction. Like the others, he's been shocked into silence and Enjolras doesn't particularly think that it's a good look on him. He looks like he's waiting. Perhaps for a punchline. 

"I'm taking Grantaire with me," Enjolras repeats, softer this time, "because I want someone who will leave a trail of blood where we go. We're not trying to be subtle here. If subtlety was what I was going for, I certainly _wouldn't_ take Grantaire."

With a quiet snort, Grantaire lifts his bottle to Enjolras and takes a long sip. He swallows, clears his throat, and says, "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, boss."

:·:

It turns out that Grantaire is right. Enjolras truly had no idea what he was getting himself into and definitely didn't think that it would be this.

They're in Greece for a week gathering intel before they strike because Enjolras doesn't believe in going into any situation without assessing every possible risk. He'd thought that a week away with Grantaire would mean that they get work done, that they would fuck in between, spar until they have each other on the floor and maybe fuck again.

So far, he hasn't been disappointed on that front.

It's just the fact that Grantaire won't stop _fidgeting_ and it's driving Enjolras mad. He's always playing with something, whether it be his gun, a pen, the rings he'd bought from a vendor at the night markets they'd passed on their first night, 

"Stop it," Enjolras snaps, when he's halfway through explaining the schematics of their targets' building and Grantaire has dismantled his gun, put it back together, and is now doing it again without looking down at it. "Are you even listening?"

"Of course I am," Grantaire replies, sounding offended. "Fire escape is three doors away from where we need to be. Combeferre's going to disable the alarm on it and fix the security camera feed for us the day before and then we hit them."

"Right." Enjolras pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's just… that's fucking distracting, alright?"

"What?" Grantaire asks and follows Enjolras' gaze to look down at his hands. "Oh."

"Are you nervous?" Enjolras asks. "Is that what this is? I've never seen you fidget like this before."

"I do it all the time," Grantaire replies with a shrug. "Don't like staying still for too long unless I have a good reason to."

"But your _hands_ ," Enjolras says, frustrated, and a grin slowly spreads across Grantaire's face as he understands exactly what's going on.

"Oh. Do you want to give my hands something better to do?"

Enjolras rolls his eyes, even as he gets up off his chair and straddles Grantaire's lap. "I can think of a few uses I have for them, yes."

He ends up spread out on the dining table of the small apartment they're renting, with Grantaire's fingers and tongue inside him, thighs shaking with the effort it takes to keep himself silent. Grantaire pushes three fingers into him, twisting them as he uses the thumb of his other hand to rub firmly over Enjolras' perineum. Enjolras comes with a shout, clamping his hands over his mouth a moment too late. 

"Would you look at that?" Grantaire murmurs, standing up with a grin. He has the palm of one hand pressed to his own cock as he leans over Enjolras and kisses him messily. "Looks like these hands can take _you_ apart too."

Enjolras is still shaking, his eyes wide, watching as Grantaire pushes his pants down just enough to jerk himself off. 

"So," Grantaire says once they're clean and dressed again, lounging back in his chair, pulling a pen apart and putting it back together this time. "You were talking about fire escapes?"

:·:

"Grantaire, stop that."

"Stop what?" there's a smugness to his tone that says he knows _exactly_ what Enjolras wants him to stop, and that he's not going to. 

Enjolras lets out an agitated sigh, turning to one of his bags and opening it, going through the pockets. 

"Hey, come on." Grantaire is right behind him, chin almost resting on Enjolras' shoulder. "The job's tomorrow night, and then we'll be out of here. No need to be all worked up now."

Enjolras turns and in one smooth movement, he pulls the handcuffs out of his bag and locks them around Grantaire's wrists.

"What—" Grantaire tugs at them, but they stay tight. Enjolras hooks his finger over the chain joining both cuffs and Grantaire looks up at him with a frown. 

"I've had enough of this, Grantaire, and I'm going to punish you for being—more contrary than usual." Enjolras raises an eyebrow. "If you aren't comfortable with the cuffs, just say the word and I'll unlock you, and we'll find another punishment for you. If not…"

"You're gonna _punish_ me," Grantaire murmurs. "What are you going to do? Spank me hard and tell me how disappointed daddy is in me?"

"No," Enjolras replies, even as he stores that at the back of his mind to examine in greater detail later. "No, nothing like that. I'm not going to hit you."

"Oh," Grantaire says, and Enjolras' chest feels strange and tight when he recognises the tone as disappointment. 

"But I will make you cry," Enjolras promises, tugging Grantaire to the bedroom in their apartment. He's already prepared in advance and there's a small carabiner hanging from their bed frame. Enjolras clips Grantaire's handcuffs to it and steps back, leaving Grantaire to lie there.

"Didn't think this through," Grantaire tells him, lifting his head to meet Enjolras' gaze. "Should have undressed me first. Now you're not going to be able to take my shirt off without cutting it off me. Please don't do that, I like this one."

"What makes you think I'm interested in taking your shirt off?" Enjolras asks, getting back onto the bed and kneeling over Grantaire, undoing his pants. "I have other plans."

" _Oh_ ," Grantaire breathes.

"Oh," Enjolras repeats, once Grantaire's pants and boxers are off, grinning at him. "Indeed."

He takes the bottle of lube from the bedside table and stretches Grantaire open slowly, finger by finger, ignoring the pleas for more fingers, faster. 

Then he settles down between Grantaire's legs, holding them apart, and pushes his tongue past that tight ring of muscle.

" _Fuck_ ," Grantaire says, like it's been punched out of him. "Enjolras."

He keeps going, slow and teasing, not changing his pace even once, until Grantaire's gasps turn into bitten-off curses and then into shaky breaths that begin to sound like _please_. If what Grantaire did to Enjolras was taking him apart, Enjolras is breaking him down into piece after component piece in return and then slowly putting him back together. Grantaire lets out a choked sob, shaking apart.

"I need—please, Enjolras—"

"What do you need?" Enjolras asks, kissing along Grantaire's inner thigh. "Let me hear it, Grantaire."

"Let me come," Grantaire begs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I need to come. Please, Enjolras."

"Yeah," Enjolras replies, wrapping his fingers around Grantaire's cock and smiling at his cry of relief. "Okay."

Grantaire comes hard with a loud moan and Enjolras scrambles to get his clothes off and kneel over Grantaire.

"I want you to fuck my mouth," Grantaire murmurs, and Enjolras doesn't need to be told twice. 

Grantaire's mouth feels wonderful around his cock, tight and hot, his throat relaxed, and Enjolras doesn't take very long at all. He buries his hands in Grantaire's hair and fucks into his mouth desperately, meaning to pull away as he comes, but Grantaire keeps him close and tilts his face up for it.

" _Fuck_ ," Enjolras gasps, looking down at Grantaire.

Grantaire grins, licking his lips clean. Enjolras grabs a face towel to help clean him off and undoes the handcuffs so they can get undressed properly, lying in each other's arms until they're ready to drag themselves out of bed and into the shower. 

"You're going to ruin me," Grantaire murmurs, pressing Enjolras against the cool glass wall of the shower, mouthing at his neck. "Not like you just did. I mean, actually ruin me. You're going to destroy me and I'll let you. I'd let you do anything."

Enjolras kisses him hard, not willing to think through the implications of Grantaire's words just now. "Stay sharp, Grantaire. We have people to kill in less than twelve hours."

Grantaire grins as he kisses back, his mouth a wry curve, teeth against Enjolras' lips.


End file.
